


Emerging Growth

by EdosianOrchids901



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Established Relationship, Feelings, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon Cardassia, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 07:54:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18406376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdosianOrchids901/pseuds/EdosianOrchids901
Summary: "Julian kept his tone light despite the knot in his stomach. 'I just couldn’t go any longer without kissing you, so I decided it was time to change things up.' Without asking. Which was, in retrospect, maybe not the wisest idea."





	Emerging Growth

**Author's Note:**

> Dialogue prompt: "Carry me."

Vicious wind blasted a wall of dust straight into Julian’s face as soon as he stepped off the transport. He squeezed his eyes shut with a wince. God, this was like the time he’d used a salt scrub not meant for humans. The scrub had left his body raw, burning. And if anything, this dust scoured his skin even more severely.

Shielding his face with one hand, Julian cracked his eyes open. Garak hadn’t lied about the conditions or the continued struggle to rebuild. All around the edges of the spaceport lay crushed and twisted remnants of the proud structures that once stood guard.

And yet, ramshackle buildings peeked hopefully over the ruins. Amid all the grey and tan, green emerged in the form of newly-planted vegetation. And all around, Cardassians worked industriously. Some were building a wall, while others buzzed around inside what looked like a traffic control tower.

Impressive. Julian picked his way down the street, careful not to slip on any loose gravel. Other pedestrians alternately jostled him or shot suspicious glares and gave him a wide berth. A warmer welcome than he’d expected, really.

Now, where could he find Garak? Julian stopped to pull out his padd, and someone immediately plowed into him. “Sorry,” Julian said, giving a quick wave and stepping out of traffic.

_I probably should have told him I was coming._ But then it wouldn’t have been a surprise. The look on Garak’s face would outweigh the inconvenience of being slightly lost.

Julian wiped a thick coat of dust from his padd screen and checked the time. Early afternoon, which meant Garak was with the Reunion Project, probably having lunch. Julian tucked the padd back into his duffel and set off.

Perhaps from guilt over both the distance and initial delay in communication, Garak had been unusually forthcoming about his life on Cardassia these past months. His messages contained a ridiculous amount of detail, so much that Julian’s eyes often glazed over. But knowing Garak’s favorite lunch spots came in handy now.

Even the oppressive heat and choking dust couldn’t put a damper on this. Julian almost broke into a run when he saw the makeshift café, his hands tingling. Finally. Finally, after all these months. He flung the door open.

Garak sat in a typical spot, off to the side with a clear view of the entire room. He glanced up from a padd, and his eyes widened. His fork slipped from his grasp, bounced off a plate, and clattered to the floor.

Words rushed in Julian’s mind, tangling and wrestling for dominance. _I’m here! Hallo, Elim, I decided to move to Cardassia. Oh my god, it’s so damn good to see you. Surprised?_

“Hi,” he finally managed, cheeks aching from his grin.

Mouth hanging open, Garak leapt up. He’d lost weight—a little too much weight—since leaving DS9. His scales were dull, hair unkempt.

But delight radiated from his eyes. He crossed the café and seized Julian’s hands. “My dear Julian. What are you doing here?”

How very like him to immediately start asking questions. Julian’s throat went dry and tight. “Moving here, if that’s all right with you.”

Garak tilted his head. “Is that so?”

God, that wasn’t an encouraging response. The others in the café—all Cardassian, probably members of the Reunion Project—fell silent. This was probably as close as they got to theatre these days.

“Yep, it is.” Julian kept his tone light despite the knot in his stomach. “I just couldn’t go any longer without kissing you, so I decided it was time to change things up.” Without asking. Which was, in retrospect, maybe not the wisest idea.

Garak’s entire stance relaxed, a smile spreading across his face. He reached up and cupped Julian’s cheek. “I meant what I said in my letter. You are always welcome here, Doctor.”

Thank god. Julian glanced around the café. Expectant faces studied them, not even bothering to feign polite indifference. It was like being surrounded by a pack of raptors. “Um, should we go back to your place, or…?”

“Ah. Yes.” Garak shook himself. He scooped the fork off the ground and set it on his plate, then collected his belongings. “Come, my dear.”

The heavy cloud of dust attacked again the instant they stepped outside. Julian groaned. Grit filled his mouth, burned his eyes.

Garak made a soft, disapproving sound and tugged something from his pack. “You should have known better than to go for a walk on Cardassia without a mask. Did you bother to read my letters at all? I do believe we spoke about the dust at length on one of our chats as well.”

“I thought it might be more fun to make you take care of me for a change.” The mask definitely wasn’t designed for a human, leaving gaps where ridges would be on a Cardassian. Still, it kept out most of the dust, and Julian breathed a little easier. _Masks will complicate kissing a bit, though._

Garak cut through the crowd, occasionally exchanging a few words with passersby. His gestures flowed with a natural, almost calm grace.

Despite the rubble, despite the death, despite the destruction… Amazing. Cardassians really were the hardiest of people. _Knock them down and they just spring back out of the cracks and keep going on with their lives. Adapt or die._

“Here we are.” Garak gestured to the path ahead.

Even without the introduction, Julian would have recognized this as Garak’s home. If plants peppered other areas of the city, they positively enveloped this land. Bushes of every kind, vines Julian couldn’t identify even with his enhanced memory. And, of course, orchids, their light peach blossoms unfurling at the base of nearly every monument.

And the _monuments!_ They stretched towards the sky, another symbol of Cardassian pride and durability. They seemed to say _We survived, we endured, and now we stand back up._

“This is stunning,” Julian said, his voice muffled by the mask. “How the hell do you work in the garden in all this wind?”

“Carefully.” Garak led him down the path. “And, as you can see, my shed is expanding into quite a nice little residence.”

“It’s bigger than I expected.” While simple, the structure had a certain elegance that ran through all Garak’s work, whether his medium be plants, fabric, or stone.

Garak’s jaw tipped up, his pride unmistakable even through a mask. “I do believe I’m finding my place,” he said softly with a glance at Julian. “Particularly now, with you beside me.”

The remaining pressure in Julian’s chest vanished. “Carry me.”

“Beg pardon?” Garak tilted his head.

“It’s an old human custom, to carry someone over the threshold when…” Heat suffused Julian’s cheeks, and he waved a hand to the house. “Well, technically it’s when you get married. But, I mean, we’ve been together for so long that I thought it might be—”

“Hush, my dearest Doctor.”

Julian found himself swept up in strong Cardassian arms. He giggled and looped an arm around Garak’s neck. “See, I always knew you were a romantic at heart.”

“I believe I’ve demonstrated my romantic tendencies quite well over the years.” Garak cradled Julian a bit closer so neither of them bumped against the doorframe. After a couple steady steps inside, he stopped. “Am I allowed to put you down now? Or is there more to this custom?”

“No, you can put me down.”

Once on the ground, Julian dropped his duffel and glanced around the house. Low bookshelves lined the walls. Many of the books had been damaged by water, fire, and who knew what else. A few Edosian orchids decorated the simple wooden table.

 A cot huddled in the corner, several blankets spread neatly over the mattress. “Your bed’s a little small,” Julian said. Of course, Garak had complained that nights on Cardassia chilled him, so snuggling would benefit his health.

“I believe we can make do.” Garak deftly peeled off Julian’s mask and then his own. He combed his fingers through Julian’s hair, and dust clouded the air. “Better.”

Julian’s breath caught—this time, not from the dust. He leaned into the contact, brought his hand to Garak’s cheek, and kissed him. Finally. _I’m never letting him leave again._


End file.
